


Pointless

by fancywaffles



Series: An Azure Dawn [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blue Lions Route, Canon-Typical Violence, Felix Hugo Fraldarius is Not Immune to Emotion, Gen, M/M, Unrequited Love, i mean for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22962838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: An ambush in the rain, a hard battle at the peak of the war lead by no one, and after Felix takes on the Death Knight he finds out he and Mercedes might have more in common than he thought.(Or Felix's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. } Fits in w/ Barnacle, but it's not necessary to read it for this one.)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Mercedes von Martritz, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: An Azure Dawn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654411
Comments: 12
Kudos: 175





	Pointless

**Author's Note:**

> @vermilleons made some amaZING art for this [go check it out](https://twitter.com/vermilleons/status/1279222076629561344?s=20)!

It was an ambush.

That wasn’t a surprise. Byleth had voiced concern that the intel seemed too easy and it might be a trap, but the boar’s bloodlust was too strong so they followed anyway. Not that anyone had even tried to sway him. The old man had just looked sadly, like he wished there was something he could have done. It was pathetic.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Sylvain had said, because ragged optimism was the only thing he was clinging to. It was pointless. “Maybe we’ll find some big opening that’ll change the face of the war.”

“Maybe you’ll die,” Felix had said. “And finally stop talking.”

Sylvain had laughed. Felix regretted saying it, now that they were surrounded and death looked like a real possibility.

“Ashe, get up into the tree line and cover us, Annette and Mercedes, cover Ashe, but stay away from the Death Knight,” Byleth said, giving quick directions. Felix would surpass her combat skills one day, but he didn’t think he would ever gain the knowledge to see all angles of everyone on the field and know where they should be — that was a waste of time, you could only rely on yourself.

“Felix you and Sylv— _Damnit_ , Dimitri!” Byleth swore as the boar took off straight into the fray. She hefted her sword up and quickly gestured to Ingrid to switch her position, a less guarded position. Sylvain immediately went to take up where she had left an opening, one hand on the reins, the other stretched out and readying a spell.

 _Don’t die_. Felix thought at him, aggressively, as if he could blast it into the air and create a shield around him.

“I guess we’re following?” Felix said, spinning his grip on his sword, readying the flex in his wrist for the fight.

“Apparently,” Byleth said. She sounded angry, but there was a cool emptiness in her features, that had become very reassuring during combat. “We need to buy time, Gilbert and other Knights weren’t too far behind. Leave the Death Knight alone, he doesn’t seemed to engage unless challenged — and if you see Hubert.”

“Kill him,” Felix said with a nod.

Byleth shot him a look as they advanced. “No. Run farther out of range than you think you need to.”

Felix scoffed, but nodded. It was supposedly midday, but the dark clouds had swept through the area making it almost as hard to see as when the ground was covered with fog. There was a taste of blood and static in the air, a fight in the rain sounded like a challenge, but with how erratic the boar was, and how much they’d been surprised, for once Felix wouldn’t mind an easy one.

It wasn’t easy. It didn’t rain, but thunder cracked between spells of the same name. The light put enough focus that Ashe’s arrow whistled through the air and hit an opponent Felix was bringing up his sword to counter for, directly in the eye. The solider stumbled backwards, death knell approaching, and Felix turned his attention to the next one.

His arms were sore with use and his sword was starting to feel heavier than it should have. Felix needed to train more. He should have expected the boar would do something stupid like this and they’d all have to try and survive to clean up the mess. Five years of hearing rumors of a feral creature that Felix had always known was what really came back from the road to Duscur and now they were following the creature into battle.

It was pathetic. Felix wondered if his old man would even feel guilt about it in the end. It had been his pointless idea to rally the entire army around that creature. Felix was the only one who knew not to do anything as stupid as hope that the real Dimitri would come back.

Another cracking noise shot through the air, leaving the taste of ozone and petrichor to mingle with the blood in the back of his throat as it tore past him. There was an impact and a grunt behind Felix, their battalions were running slim and the enemy didn’t seem to be giving way.

He didn’t want to die here, at the service of a mad king, to have an epitaph written on his grave about how he sacrificed himself nobly.

Areadbhar shone almost red through the air as it cleaved the source of that spell in two. Felix breathed hard, stilling the anger at having to thank the beast as it barreled into the next group. Whatever _it_ was, it was effective.

Felix didn’t linger, as he approached the next set of enemies, he saw Annette, alone trying to hold off three getting too close for her to dodge out of range. He picked up speed and was able to gut one of them, while Annette blasted the other. The third managed to get her in the shoulder and with a grunted yell, Felix pushed himself to the limit and took the enemy’s sword arm clean off.

“Why are you alone?” Felix demanded, while Annette put her spell stained fingers on her shoulder, trying to funnel weak light magic at the wound, the white light of it sputtered and she let out a breathy cry.

“Ashe went to help Ingrid and Mercedes ran off, I can’t—there’s too many of them!”

“Fall back then,” Felix snapped, and dug a vulnerary out of his pocket, putting it in her hand. “You’re useless dead.”

“I—” Annette looked about ready to cry. She shook her head, took the healing salve and quickly cleaned herself up. “Go!” she said. “I’m fine.”

She carried an axe on her, he’d rarely seen her get to the point where she was so drained on spells she’d need to use it.

They were all going to die here, Felix thought and then shook that thought loose, because it was useless. “Be careful,” Felix said, “I need the rest of that composition about the swamp beastie.”

Annette’s embarrassed laugh was choked, it sounded like emotion and not pain, which was all the reassurance Felix could get before he had to leave her and put his energy elsewhere.

It rained right as the tide was finally turning. Felix didn’t believe in ill omens, but it certainly wasn’t an advantage. The ground was already loose and hard for the cavalry to get across, if it became wet too, it would start slowing them all down. Slowing down was death.

They’d held them off long enough for the knights to show up, at least, and he could see that one group of enemies in the back were retreating. Felix wiped the sweat and rain from his eyes and pushed forward, advancing towards the crimson tinged yellow light that swung through the air as the Sword of the Creator extended, knocking an Imperial Solider down and then recalling as their lifeless body toppled against the steed. It stamped hooves into the ground that was already mud, before running off with its dead rider.

“Mercedes!” Felix heard Byleth call out. “Don’t—”

Felix had to kill two more before he got close enough to see, his advantage over theirs, was that he trained for this and wasn’t giving his feet enough time in the same spot to sink in. It wasn’t a long term solution but it was good enough.

When Felix got there, he saw Mercedes being pushed out of the way by Byleth, at the same time the Death Knight’s scythe mid-swing tore easily through her armor and blood spattered from her rib cage.

Felix pushed forward, by the time he was able to get there, the Death Knight had another swing prepared, holding for only a moment as if giving time for Byleth to pick up her dropped sword. She didn’t and Felix grunted with the effort it took to push himself through the air and slash his sword down the sideline of the impossibly thick armor of the mounted monster.

“You,” the Death Knight rattled, infuriatingly calm considering the break Felix had gotten into his armor was oozing with blood, “Are not the one I wish to fight, but I will kill you all the same.”

A bright white light blinded Felix for a moment, the three seconds it took him to recover, the Death Knight was several feet away from them and Byleth with her hand outstretched, still dancing with the light of that spell, was panting, propped up against her sword.

“Please,” Mercedes said, and Felix realized she was talking to the Death Knight.Why would she beg that…

“This once,” the Death Knight said, “but the time will come.” Then the coward turned his horse around and took off.

Felix held down the urge to go after him. “What were you thinking?” he snapped at Mercedes.

“Leave it,” Byleth said, whether that was to Mercedes, trying to tend to her wound or Felix, or both, it was unclear. She stood, cringing with the effort, blood that even in the low light didn’t seem the right color, staining her side. Byleth swallowed and hefted the sword, larger than her own form, up and in a ready stance.

“You’re injured, stay here,” Felix snapped.

Byleth shook her head. “We have to take that flier out before it cripples the reinforcements. Ashe and Ingrid aren’t in range and Annette went to join the Calvary.”

Felix didn’t ask how she knew that. Even in the rain soaked, darkened landscape, only punctuated by spells and relics lighting up the field, she somehow knew where everyone was.

“Fine,” Felix said. It was stupid and pointless and they were probably both going to die. “Don’t slow me down.”

Byleth chuckled and then pushed forward, stumbling and then righting herself every few steps. Felix got there first, but he had nothing that would get far enough as the dark pegasi rained fire among the raindrops. The Sword of the Creator cracked, loudly next to him, and extended—hitting the mage right in the chest. The spells stopped as the caster’s body crumbled forward over the pegasi, still flying aimlessly in the air.

“You should’ve listened to me about picking up a few spells,” Byleth said, smug. “A ranged attack would’ve come in handy.”

He forgot, for a moment about her injury, there hadn’t been any sign of it during the perfect arc of the attack, but Byleth suddenly crumpled forward and cried out in pain only catching herself by slamming her sword into the dirt.

“Stupid,” Felix said, ignoring the edge to his voice, as he pulled her up, arm over his shoulders. “Pointless,” he added, angry at everything and taking it out on Byleth as he helped her move out of the fight that was finally rounding down now that their reinforcements weren’t blocked.

“Don’t pass out,” he snapped as her head dipped.

“Mhmm,” was all Byleth managed, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Felix snapped again.

She, like _everyone else_ in his life, didn’t listen and he had to carry the dead weight all the way to their encampment, hoping it wasn’t actually dead.

* * *

The medical tent was overflowing. Mercedes, covered in blood not her own, waved him to a cot, emptied seconds ago by a corpse, that was unflinchingly dragged outside with probably the rest of them. It was still raining, the sound of it pounded against the top of the tent as Felix angrily stared at Mercedes’s back while she worked on Byleth’s injury.

The place smelled of blood, mud, death, and the sharp tinge of healing spells. “Is the Professor going to be okay?” Ashe asked, coming up to him, his arm was in a sling, but other than that the archer looked better than anyone else Felix had seen so far.

“Who knows,” Felix said, and then turned from Ashe to walk the tent and check to see if any of his other friends had been stupid enough to die.

He wasn’t relieved the more of them he saw (Annette, with her shoulder bandaged, helping the healers, her brow drenched in sweat from the effort; Ingrid, superficial injuries, assisting the other soldiers in moving anyone dead or recovered off of cots and out of the tent, so they could clear up the space), but his breathing slowed and the stress of combat started to sink into his skin, as his limbs reminded him how tired they were.

“You know,” Sylvain was in the middle of saying, as Felix found him, leaning casually back on his elbows like his leg wasn’t bent in an unnatural position, “This would be the perfect love story to tell our grandkids.”

“Really?” Dorothea said, her focus purely on his leg. She was shaking, but her magic seemed less expended than some of the others.

“Yeah, a valiant wounded solider, tended by a beautiful nurse… that’s something we could tell our kids about.”

“Oh we’re having kids plural now?” Dorothea asked, it seemed to be a good distraction as the spell snapped Sylvain’s leg back into a normal position.

Sylvain breathed out his nose, pushing through the obvious pain, “How else are we supposed to have grandkids to tell this story to?”

Dorothea sighed, looked at her work and then glanced up and saw Felix. “Oh, Felix,” she sounded relieved. “Can you splint this?”

He nodded at her and she gratefully moved past him, likely to the next to be tended.

“That wasn’t a no!” Sylvain yelled at her retreating back.

Felix bent down underneath the cot, to pull out the supplies to splint Sylvain’s leg, glad to have something to do with this hands.

“One day I’ll figure out the right line on her,” Sylvain said. “I enjoy the challenge, but she’s making it really tough.”

“Do you ever stop?” Felix asked. His voice sounded as brittle as it felt, judging by Sylvain’s reaction.

Sylvain didn’t retort and instead frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not the one with a broken leg,” Felix said, putting the splint materials into place around Sylvain’s calf. He tried to ignore the part of his pants and armor that had been cut off, it was completely shredded indicating that whatever broke his leg could’ve done a lot worse.

“Me neither, now it's mending, Nurse Felix.” Sylvain laughed and it turned into a yelp and a grunt, as Felix tightened the straps to the wood to keep Sylvain’s leg straight. “Your bedside manner needs work.”

Felix felt like his nerves were frayed to the edges. He breathed out and threw the extra pieces of the splint on the floor. He felt like escaping outside into the rain, running after the cowards who fled, and fighting them until he didn’t have to look around this stupid tent anymore.

Sylvain reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Hey,” Sylvain said, serious for once. He tugged gently and scooted over on the cot trying to Felix to sit. He must have been exhausted, because Felix did. “It’s okay, we survived.” Sylvain said and then looked at Felix, worried. “Right?”

“So far,” Felix said. He looked across the tent, Mercedes was still in the same place, still moving, which meant no one was dead yet.

“Good, we all made it, that’s the important thing,” Sylvain said, then frowned. “That feels shitty to say, half my battalion got caught up in that fucking gambit—it was too dark to see the pitch until was too late.”

War was pointless. Death was pointless. And it was all Felix was built for, part of him knew that if this ended he’d have nothing all over again. It didn’t stop him from wanting it to end.

“Hey,” Sylvain said, his hand was still around Felix’s wrist, it wasn’t holding on strong enough that Felix couldn’t break out of it, and his thumb was moving in circles, like he didn’t know what he was doing.

He _didn’t_ know what he was doing.

“I said this was a trap,” Felix said, low and bitter.

“Yeah,” Sylvain agreed, thumb still moving in circles. “You get to rub that one in if you want. Though I told you so seems pretty pointless right now.”

Felix breathed out roughly, trying to breathe in after, but catching nothing in the air but death. He leaned forward putting his elbows onto his thighs, dragging his hand out of Sylvain’s and leaning forward with his fists against his temples, like he could hide from the pointlessness of this.

“Felix,” Sylvain said softly, gentle. “We’re okay. It’s okay.” He put his hand on the small of Felix’s back and rubbed there reassuringly, moving upwards in another circular moment, like he used to do when they were kids and Felix couldn’t stop crying about something stupid. Sometimes Sylvain was better to run to than Glenn or his old man… or Dimitri.

Felix let out a shuddering, stifled breath that skipped over his throat and straight into his chest. Sylvain’s hand was warm and comforting and he hated that it was the only thing he could cling to.

“You wanna help me back to my tent?” Sylvain said, after he’d given Felix long enough to stuff all of it back inside. “I feel bad taking up space like this, Dorothea said it’s a clean break so I just have to keep it still until we can finish the heal.”

“Okay,” Felix said. He helped Sylvain up, ignoring the way his mind categorized how much taller, broader, and warmer he was as he slung his arm around Felix’s shoulders.

“Shit,” Sylvain said, taking a look around the tent. “I must’ve been out of it when they brought me in…”

“When are you not?” Felix muttered.

Sylvain softly chuckled in response, his breath hot against Felix’s ear, “Fair.”

They walked slowly, Sylvain only using one leg to move and Felix taking the brunt of his weight so he wouldn’t forget and step on his bad leg. That seemed like a Sylvain thing to do. The healers were exhausted and the smell of blood and injury was beating out the sharp scent of healing magic.

“Shit, is that the Professor?” Sylvain asked as they made their way to front. Ashe had been joined by Ingrid now, standing vigil. It was pointless, but it seemed like there was nothing else left to do in the tent but heal and wait for someone to die.

“She took on the Death Knight,” Felix said. He still didn’t understand it.

“No wonder she kept telling us to avoid him, shit, that is…” Sylvain looked worried, but then the mask of ease came back on his face as he noticed Felix looking at him. “She’ll be fine. Probably just sleep it off like last time.”

“Maybe,” Felix said, the only sympathy he could give Sylvain, the lie. He didn’t know if she’d survive, or if she threw her life away so she could be another dead person whispering for vengeance in the boar’s ear. Felix hadn’t seen him in the tent, wasn’t sure if it would be a relief if the fighting finally overtook the beast and freed them from this rampage.

“Left,” Sylvain said, and Felix realized he was walking them in the wrong direction.

“Sorry,” he muttered, under his breath and tried to focus on getting the tent flap open and Sylvain out. It was still raining, pouring harder if possible, the mud had started to curdle into thick pockets of sunken terrain, making their trek too slow to not get completely soaked through.

Sylvain was shivering once Felix got him back to his tent. “You need to get dry clothes,” Felix said.

“I always knew you couldn’t resist the urge to see me naked,” Sylvain said. It was casual, flippant, and Sylvain was too busy laughing at his own joke to see Felix cringe.

“Lift your arms up,” Felix snapped at him, as he eased Sylvain onto a supplies container, careful of his leg.

“Bossy,” Sylvain said, still laughing at his own joke. “I bet you’re the opposite in bed. All talk, but when it came down to it, begging to have someone command you.”

“Put your arms up,” Felix snapped again. “If you get pneumonia, your stupid jokes aren’t going to save you.”

Sylvain sighed and then complied with Felix’s request, stretching his arms up over his head. Felix helped him get what was left of his armor, and his undershirt off, hoping how hot his face felt wasn’t visible.

Felix turned away, in case it was, digging around for anything to use as a towel and throwing it at Sylvain when he found it.

“I’m gonna need help with my pants,” Sylvain commented, rubbing his hair dry. He’d already unlaced and pulled them down slightly, and the couple of pieces of armor that they hadn’t cut off were loose like he’d pulled at them. “Please don’t re-break my leg though.”

“What happened?” Felix asked, holding Sylvain up with one arm enough to get him hovering over the box and them to drag his pants down off his legs enough for him to sit again.

“We got swarmed,” Sylvain said, grunting with the effort of releasing the plate of armor that was stuck. “Can you—”

Felix moved and started releasing the jammed metal piece, focusing on getting it unstuck without stabbing Sylvain through his good leg, and not how close he was to his friend’s naked hipbones and everything else.

“By what?” Felix asked, if he could focus on the fight, he didn’t have to focus on anything else.

“They had snipers set up,” Sylvain said, he was completely naked now, rubbing himself down with the towel and then gesturing to where he kept his clean clothes. Felix followed the movement and got some out while he kept talking. “It was too dark to see them and Ingrid and her soldiers had to split up, by the time we were able to get into their weak spots, there was another group of bad guys rushing at us.”

Sylvain sighed, tilting his head back so his entire neck was exposed, there was a bruise rung around the center of it, from where something had knocked into his armor. Felix was sure from the look of it, if Sylvain hadn’t being wearing any, he’d be dead.

“Hey,” Sylvain said and made direct eye contact with Felix. “You’re shaking, steal some dry clothes, would you?”

Felix didn’t have the energy to argue, and the chill from his clothes being soaked was starting to get to him, so he turned from Sylvain and stripped quickly, pulling some of Sylvain’s dry clothes on just as fast.

Sylvain was laughing at him when he turned around, which was ridiculous, since _he_ was tipped over to the side, dry pants halfway down his ass on one side. “You look like you’re playing dress up.”

“If you die in this tent, no one will suspect or blame me,” Felix said, knowing he was definitely visibly flushed.

Sylvain wheezed out another laugh, and shifted indelicately, so Felix saw far too much as he managed to pull his pants on with only one leg lifting up his weight on the floor. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m tired, everything’s funny. Help me on the bedroll?”

Felix did, feeling like his face was going to melt off at any moment. Sylvain’s clothes did swamp him and he’d had to roll the waist down to keep it from falling off. He should’ve stayed in his own wet clothes and died of pneumonia. At least that would mean this nightmare of a day was over.

Sylvain flopped back, closed his eyes and let out a pleased sigh. “Rain doesn’t sound so bad when you’re not fighting in it.”

Felix grunted and tried to rub the flush off his face. It was humiliating. “You’re settled. I should go.”

“And get soaked again after putting on _my_ clothes?” Sylvain said, elbowing himself up to a half seated position. “I don’t think so.”

“There’s things I can do; my leg isn’t broken.”

Sylvain stared at him, skeptically. “Ingrid and Ashe can handle the staring uselessly while Mercedes does all the work and unless you’re planning on tracking His Highness down to hunt stragglers, the only thing you can do is get wet and brood.”

So. The boar was alive after all.

Felix felt… He shook his head and moved towards the box he’d had Sylvain on earlier. “Fine.”

“Broken leg isn’t contagious, Felix,” Sylvain chided. “Come here,” he patted the space next to him on the bedroll.

Felix hated him so much. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing and it was endlessly frustrating. If Felix was going to be in love with someone since he was five, at least he could’ve picked someone not an idiot. Then again if he’d had a say in the matter, he would’ve picked someone who wasn’t madly in love with every girl he saw, until he saw the next one.

“Felix!” Sylvain said, “Don’t make me injure myself again.”

“You’re so irritating,” Felix groused. He pushed himself off the box and stomped over towards him, lying back on the bedroll with a huff as he crossed his arms.

“Yes, but you love me,” Sylvain said laughing.

“Please shut up,” Felix said, closing his eyes and not focusing on how much heat was radiating off Sylvain, only centimeters away from him.

“You must be in a mood if you’re saying please,” Sylvain said.

Felix let out a loud, irritated sigh and kept his eyes shut, ignoring everything about this moment.

“Think they’ll call this a victory?” Sylvain said, never able to sit in silence for very long.

“Yes,” Felix said, the taste of it was sour on his tongue. “Another advance against the Empire for the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus—who gives a shit if it lost us a quarter of our troops and we didn’t even take down one of their generals.”

“He ran off again?” Sylvain asked. “I figured the Professor brought him down with her.”

“I ran him off,” Felix said, unable to feel any pride at it since he hadn’t killed him.

Sylvain let out a low whistle. “Damn. No wonder you’re always her favorite.”

“What?” Felix opened his eyes again and regretted it as he was reminded of how close Sylvain’s head was to his own.

Sylvain was smiling, one of those lazy smiles, that meant he was (or was pretending to be) completely at ease. “C’mon… if shit gets messy, she always puts you in front with her. It’s like two human weapons slicing through the field, while we pick up the pieces. Kinda romantic.”

“You’re exaggerating, we’d never fight someone in a line like that.”

“It’s painful talking to you sometimes, you know that?” Sylvain said, twisting his mouth into a less relaxed smile.

“Then don’t talk,” Felix said and rolled his head back towards the ceiling.

Sylvain sighed, like he was the one putting up with the annoyance and thankfully shut up. The quiet stretched long enough that when Felix turned again, he could see Sylvain had passed out. The lines of his face were softer and the exhaustion he was covering exposed by how deeply he’d fallen into sleep.

Felix counted Sylvain’s breaths, unintentionally matching them, until he was absolutely sure Sylvain was asleep. He took in a shuddering breath, sat up, and leaned his head against his knees for a moment, allowing for the weakness for ten full seconds, before he stood up. It was still raining, so he changed back into his wet clothes, grunting at the squelch in his boots. He wasn’t particularly quiet about it and Sylvain didn’t stir, which only cemented how tired he must have been.

Felix stared at him, sprawled out on the bedroll, one arm resting on his stomach that went up and down as he breathed. He allowed himself that weakness for three seconds, before he left the tent and went back into the rain.

* * *

There wasn’t much to do that wasn’t already in the process of being done. Felix was tired but he was still wired and didn’t want to rest. He needed something to do, so he went to the medical tent again.

Byleth was awake and alive, no one tending to her, but Ashe and Annette seated on the end of her cot. Byleth and Annette were listening as Ashe told some kind of story, either from one of his stupid books, or his childhood. Felix left the medical tent before they noticed him.

It was night now. Felix only knew that from his internal clock, because the rain pouring down was still mucking up visibility and making it as wet and miserable as it had been when it was probably closer to sunset.

He saw Mercedes, standing off to the side, out of the way of any areas of traffic that might’ve still been moving around. Her head was tilted back and from the soft ambience of the enchanted lanterns marking the perimeter, he could see tears mixing with the rain on her face.

Felix walked towards her. She heard him, it was hard to sneak up with how loud his boots sounded squishing into the soaked earth. Mercedes wiped her face, which did nothing as the rain covered the effort, as she turned towards him. “Do they need me back in the tent?”

Her voice was always sort of two notes away from shrill, but now it sounded rougher, like she was recovering from a silence spell, voice stretched from disuse.

“No,” Felix said. “You don’t look up to it anyway.”

Mercedes looked down at that. “If you weren’t there…”

“Why were _you_ there?” Felix asked, the anger snapping back into place like a reflex.

“I thought I could talk to him,” Mercedes said. “I thought he’d listen. I almost got through before and I had to try, I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”

She was talking about the Death Knight like an ally or a friend. “Who is he to you?” Felix asked.

Mercedes looked down again, she was fingering the bloodied apron she wore, the rain unable to wash it clean. “Do you remember when I told you about my little brother?”

Felix was silent as he processed what that meant. After long enough that Mercedes lifted her head to look at him, grief all over her face, Felix said, “I remind you of the Death Knight?”

Mercedes made a noise shy of a laugh and sobbed a little. “No. He’s not the Death Knight… that’s what they made him…what I made him. He’s sweet and gentle and kind. It’s still in there somewhere. Emile.”

“He’s not,” Felix said. He knew what it was like to look at something that was supposed to be the boy you knew, but was actually the monster that replaced him. “He would have killed you if she hadn’t stepped in.”

“Maybe,” Mercedes said. “But maybe that would’ve been what was supposed to happen.”

Felix thought Mercedes was better than this. “If you’re going to talk like the boar, then go after him. He’s probably still scrounging in the dirt looking for leftovers.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Mercedes said. “You know he’s in pain. And I’m not throwing my life away, if I can get through to Emile. We left him. We thought we couldn’t take him that it would be safer this way, but it wasn’t. I should have looked for him. If I can still save him I have to try.”

“And if you can’t?” Felix asked, the harshness cracked through like the stab of a knife.

“Then I tried,” Mercedes said. “I don’t regret trying. I only regret that it hurt the Professor. I didn’t want anyone else hurt.”

“You saved her life,” Felix said. “You saved her life and you have saved our lives countless times. That’s better than chasing after a ghost.”

“Felix,” Mercedes said, her voice a little steadier now. “It’s not the same. I know you’re hurting too, but this isn’t the same.”

“You don’t know anything!” Felix growled and regretted it as Mercedes looked away again, like he’d hit her.

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes said. “I’m not trying to make you upset.”

Felix felt deflated. He always did when he lashed out at Mercedes and she took it like this. If she’d at least snap back at him it would’ve gone down easier.

“Then don’t throw your life away,” Felix said. “If… Emile was here, I’m sure he’d say the same thing.”

There was no world where someone wanted their sibling to throw their life away on some pointless excuse for heroics.

“I have to try,” Mercedes said. He gave her credit that she said it facing him, like she wasn’t going to back down. “But I’ll be more careful next time. I didn’t know he’d be there and I acted careless. I don’t want anyone else I care about hurt because of me.”

Felix sighed. It was useless arguing about it. At least they’d know this was a problem now.“She looked better,” he said.

Mercedes let out a shaky breath and nodded. “It was touch and go, the poison was easy enough, but she exasperated her injuries when she didn’t listen to you and fall back.”

He thought back to what Sylvain said about not being the right time to rub in he was right. She wouldn’t have needed to fall back if she hadn’t been there in the first place. And… he could’ve figured out a way to take down the flier.

Maybe he would work on a few spells. It wouldn’t hurt to have a backup going forward.

“You should get out of the rain,” he said.

“In a minute,” Mercedes said, turning back around, making it clear she wasn’t going to listen to him and would move when she felt like it. “It’s nice to pray when it’s like this. It feels like the Goddess is answering, crying with you.”

Felix lifted his hand, unsure of what he was supposed to do with it, and then patted her back. “Don’t get sick.”

Mercedes smiled over her shoulder at him. “I won’t.”

Felix left her there and went back to his own tent, to get dry again. He tried to sleep, but even listening to the rain pattering against the tent, it didn’t work. He was exhausted and even more so after he’d given into it and laid down, but he still could only stare up at the top of his tent in the darkness, counting seconds as they passed.

It was at least the middle of the night when, in a fugue of sleep but not sleep, he heard his father’s voice outside his tent. “We were worried.” There was barely a pause before Felix confirmed he wasn’t speaking to him, “Your Majesty.”

“Don’t be, it’s a waste of time,” the boar said, huge feet sloshing in the wet ground, loud enough to make the hackles on the back of Felix’s neck rise.

“Dimitri,” his old man said, low and careful, like saying his name could do anything to bring him back.

“Get out of my way,” the boar replied, making Felix, yet again right.

He heard the sounds of movement as the boar passed and his father’s put-upon sigh, followed by a mumble that Felix couldn’t make out. Another moment passed and his father, still in front of the tent, touched the edge of it, it shifted the canvas and Felix watched as it dropped again and listened as his old man walked away.

Typical.

He choked the anger and everything else down, and finally slept.

* * *

“It’s a cool scar at least,” Byleth said, the next day. The medical tent was still active, but there was only recovery there now. Including Sylvain, three cots away, being tended to by Dorothea again and saying something that made her laugh.

“Good.” Felix still felt angry, it stretched across his bones and replaced the fatigue from the night before. “A good reminder to listen when someone tells you to hang back.”

“It was the only way, Felix,” Byleth said. “Trust me. I know.”

Something about the way she said it made Felix feel unbalanced, so he ignored it. “We lost at least a week to this foolishness.”

“We lost more than that,” Byleth said, tinged with regret for the soldiers he’s sure she kept track of.

“At some point, someone is going to have to put that beast down before he gets us all killed,” Felix said. He _almost_ regretted it by the way it made his former teacher flinch.

“Don’t say that,” she said.

“Don’t believe it’s not true,” Felix said back.

They stared at each other for a long moment, almost like they did before a spar, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Your father thinks I can talk to him,” she said, advancing first.

“My old man is an idiot,” Felix said, remembering last night.

“In this case… yeah,” Byleth said, surprising him. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t still try.” From the way she said it, it went about as well as Felix expected. “Have been trying.”

“A waste of time,” Felix said.

“Maybe,” Byleth said, tiredly. She leaned back on her cot again, holding her side, bandaged up and still healing. “Going to keep doing it anyway.”

Felix didn’t reply. A silence hung in the air, but it was fine. He promised the silence that he wouldn’t rub it in when he was proven right.

After a while, Sylvain broke the silence. He was walking slowly, gingerly putting weight on his previously broken leg. “Dorothea refuses to take me seriously when I propose.”

“I wonder why,” Byleth said, mouth twisting.

“Hey, I have been completely and utterly devoted to her since last… night? Was it night? Well, anyway yesterday.” He stopped and then made a horrified shudder. “You’re both giving me the _exact_ same face, please, the Goddess is not cruel enough that there’d be two of you.”

Byleth snorted and Felix glared at him. Sylvain seemed relieved and grinned. “And I think you’d be more sympathetic, Felix. Leaving before I wake up is a cruel move, what am I to you, some sort of floozy?”

“Yes,” Felix said and ignored the warmth spreading up his neck.

“Sylvain,” Byleth said, in that voice that meant it was time to shut up and give attention. “If you’re feeling up for it, why don’t you show Felix some spell-work. Thunder is, I believe, where you left off before calling it pointless and a waste of time,” she said in Felix’s direction.

“Stabbed in the chest and still teaching,” Sylvain said, pretending to sound amazed. “How do you do it.”

“Extreme patience,” Byleth said.

Sylvain didn’t get it, but Felix smirked a little before sighing. “Fine, you were right. I’ll learn a few stupid spells.”

“We probably won’t break camp until tomorrow,” Byleth said. “Might as well keep busy if you can.”

“This sounds more like you trying to get rid of me,” Sylvain said.

“I can have more than one reason to do things,” Byleth replied.

Sylvain laughed and stretched his arms over his head, finally putting full weight on his leg and nodded at the feel of it. “Alright, come on Felix, let me teach you my ways.”

“I’d rather learn the spells,” Felix said. He caught Sylvain off guard and there was a slow smile on his face and another fond laugh that made Felix’s stomach twist.

“He’s your favorite, right Professor?” Sylvain asked, wrapping an arm around him that Felix immediately shoved off. “Goddess knows why.”

“I don’t have favorites,” she said, closing her eyes.

Sylvain looked at her suspiciously but then shrugged and gestured for Felix to follow as he headed out of the tent. Felix glanced back over at her, eyes open now and staring up at nothing, but he let her be and followed Sylvain out of the tent.

The boar was nearby, muttering to itself. Sylvain frowned, mirth gone, as he looked in its direction, but then he forced a smile and kept on. Felix glared at it before following.

“Mercedes!” Sylvain called out, practically purring around each syllable of her name. “You’re not jealous that Dorothea got to attend me are you?”

“No,” Mercedes said, looking up from her small cup of tea and some smashed cake looking things. “It was a relief to have the help.”

Sylvain stared at her, speechless for a moment as he tried to decipher if there was an insult in there or not. Felix was pretty sure there was.

“A lady really shouldn’t have tea alone,” Sylvain said, finally, deciding there wasn’t.

“Would you like to join me?” Mercedes asked, she was a little tentative as she looked at Felix.

“Whatever,” Felix said, glaring at the sweets. “But I’m not eating that.”

“That’s fine,” Mercedes said, much more brightly. “The tea isn’t too sweet, you might like it.”

“Can I have his?” Sylvain asked and pulled another makeshift chair over so they could both sit across from her.

“I suppose,” Mercedes said, moving the plate towards him on the makeshift table, low between them. “They’re the last of them, though. We didn’t have much time to make anything new.”

The ‘we’ was including Annette, and Felix automatically glanced to see if she was nearby, but he hadn’t seen her since the night before. “Is she recovered? She seemed worn out.”

“Yes,” Mercedes said. “She slept in, but I think she’s with Ingrid going through supplies. You know how Annie is, she can never take a break.”

“Her loss,” Sylvain said, muffled through too big of a bite, “this is delicious.”

“Thank you,” Mercedes said, kindly as she poured them both tea.

Felix didn’t hate it. Mercedes was true to her word and it wasn’t too sweet. He ignored the pleased look she gave him when he took a second sip. Sylvain’s slobbered next to him as he scarfed down another cake thing.

“You must be recovering,” Mercedes said. “It’s normal to be hungry after an injury.”

“Ingrid must always been injured,” Sylvain said through a mouthful.

Felix could not help the responding snort and Sylvain nudged him with his arm, sharing a conspiratorial grin, through teeth that were plastered with baked goods.

“Ugh,” Felix gagged. “You’re disgusting.”

Sylvain shrugged and went back to eating, his arm was still pushed against Felix’s, it was warm and comfortable, and the tea wasn’t terrible. He didn’t feel angry. “It’s good,” Felix told Mercedes.

She was looking at him like she could look through him and smiled. “Thank you, Felix. That means a lot.”

“I said it was good too,” Sylvain countered, giving space for Felix to turn away from Mercedes’s demanding stare and placate him.

Felix kept drinking the tea, wanting to enjoy the heat of it before it cooled too much and Sylvain at his side for at least another few moments.

Before things, inevitably went to shit again.

**Author's Note:**

> blue lions ate my brain, byleth doesn't have favorites, but i do (it's felix) -- i'm sort of on twitter @waffle_fancy and on tumblr at fancy-waffles


End file.
